Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Solomon Islands and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ralphi Rosario to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Faust,
One Last Wish,
Buzzcocks,
Infiniti,
The New Christs,
Intrusion,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Anakelly,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Public Enemy,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Slits,
Clear Light,
The Gladiators,
Pantytec,
Trumans Water,
Soulsonic Force,
Thompson Twins,
Jacques Brel,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dual Sessions,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Livin' Joy,
H. Thieme,
Smog,
F. McDonald,
Agent Orange,
Girls At Our Best!,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wasted Youth,
Brick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jandek,
Niagra,
Procol Harum,
Scion,
kango's stein massive,
Wings,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABC,
a-ha,
Half Japanese,
Rapeman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sarah Menescal,
Delta 5,
The United States of America,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
the Association,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spandau Ballet,
Monolake,
Moebius,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Maurizio,
Hardrive,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.